e--Lionel, Roderick, and the attendant
gillie--straightway left the lodge and began to make for the head of the
strath. And it was not altogether about deer that Lionel was now
thinking. The tiny, thin packet he held in his hand seemed to burn
there. What was it Honnor Cunyngham had brought down-stairs for him?
However trivial it might be, surely it was something he could keep. She
had given it to him for good luck; but her wishes were not confined to
this one day? Then, when he had got some distance from the house, so
that his curiosity could not be observed, he threw the reins on Maggie's
neck, and proceeded to open this small packet covered with white paper.
What did he find there?--why-only a sixpence--a bright new sixpence--not
to be compared in value with the dozens on dozens of presents which were
lavished upon him by his fair admirers in London--courteous little
attentions which, it must be confessed, he had grown to regard with a
somewhat callous indifference. Only a small, bright coin this was; and
yet he carefully wrapped up the precious talisman again in its bit of
tissue paper; and as carefully he put it away in a waistcoat pocket,
where it would be safe, even among the rough-and-tumble experiences that
lay before him. The day seemed all the happier, all the more hopeful,
that he knew this little token of friendly sympathy was in his
possession. Ought not a lucky sixpence to have a hole bored in it? He
could wear it in secret, even if she might not care to see it hanging at
his watch-chain? and who could tell what subtle influence it might not
bring to bear on his fortunes, wholly apart from the stalking of stags?
He grew quite cheerful; he forgot his nervousness; he was talking gayly
to the somewhat taciturn Roderick, who, nevertheless, no doubt much
preferred to find his pupil in this confident mood.

Their course at first lay along the nearer bank of the Aivron; but, when
they had got away up the strath towards the neighborhood of the Bad
Step--which was, of course, impassable for the pony--Lionel had to
separate from his companions and ford the river, following up the other
side. Fortunately there was not much water in the stream; old Maggie
knew her way well enough; and with nothing more than an occasional
stumble among the slippery boulders and loose stones they reached the
opposite bank in safety. About a mile farther up the return crossing had
to be made; but this second ford was shallow and easy; an